The Queen's Flower
The Fallen Forest felt far less dangerous than they'd feared. Knowing he wasn't alone in the pitch-black dark was a considerable comfort in itself. Every now and then an unidentified cry would send a chill down Bayul's spine, but each time, he instinctively tightened his grip and followed the torchlight.
Maybe it's because I grew up watching the knights from the time I was little. Whenever I see someone carrying a sword, something in me settles.
As long as they're here, we'll be safe. Bayul kept murmuring it to himself the whole way through the forest.
"All right, everyone, pay attention!"
It was only after they'd gone quite deep that the procession came to a halt. Unlike the path they'd traveled so far, a fairly large clearing opened up before them. At its center, Professor Waite raised his torch to illuminate the ground behind him.
"We will now be going to see the Amal. The path leads this way, but as you can see, it's barely wide enough for a single person. So from here on, we'll go in groups. Four to a group — once one group has seen the Amal and come out, the next goes in. Understood?"
When Professor Waite stepped aside, the guard detail entered the passage first.
"Shusuke."
At the professor's call, one of the students handed over a tightly rolled sheet of paper.
"A brief explanation of the Amal."
With a rustle, the paper unrolled to reveal a drawing.
"...A flower?"
What was painted on the scroll was a flower of wondrous color. Though each bloom had its own distinct shape, clusters of rainbow-hued blossoms shone among dark olive-green leaves. The curious thing was that none of the flowers grew from flat ground — every single one had sprouted from a tree stump.
"The Amal is a rare herb, hard to come by — but finding it, surprisingly, is simple. As you can see in the drawing, all you need to do is spot the rainbow-colored petals."
Professor Waite tapped the petals with his fingertip.
"As you all know, the Amal is the precious herb used to make Amalun. Every part of it except the root is used as medicine. And how, exactly, does the Amal come into being? To answer that, we must first understand the Amalworm."
Professor Waite flipped the drawing over.
"Ugh, gross!"
"Ew, what is that?"
Unlike before, the drawing depicted a hideous insect. It had a long, segmented body bristling with what looked like thousands of legs, bearing a strong resemblance to a centipede. The difference lay in its tail, which was equipped with a feeler-like appendage several times longer than the body itself, its tip sharpened like a needle.
"The Amalworm is an insect with extremely potent venom. It makes its home in dark, damp places, and is known for laying its eggs in dead trees. Do you see the venomous stinger here on its tail?"
"Ahh, Professor! Don't touch it!"
When Professor Waite moved his hand toward the drawing, one of the girls shrieked. The picture was so lifelike that Bayul could perfectly understand how she felt.
"It's just a drawing. Everyone, focus!"
Professor Waite held the picture even higher, his voice stern.
"After laying its eggs, the Amalworm sprays venom around them — a barrier against predators, ensuring the hatchlings emerge unharmed. The toxin is so powerful that more often than not, the tree itself dies."
"Then does the Amal bloom from that dead tree?"
"No — quite the opposite. The Amal grows only from a tree that has survived the Amalworm's venom. More precisely, the Amal blooms when a seed is planted in that deadwood."
"A seed?"
"Yes, a plant seed. That's why the Amal appears in so many varieties, just as in the drawing — you never know which seed will drift in and take root."
It was a fascinating lesson. Plants of different species, meeting the Amalworm's venom, would undergo a mutation — and in the end, all of them would be born as the same herb called Amal.
Mutation under intense poison was only natural. But for the same plant to emerge from entirely different origins struck Bayul as truly miraculous. He found himself wondering what exactly lay within the Amalworm's venom.
"Terrifying stuff. If we run into an Amalworm on the way to see the Amal, what happens to us? One sting and we're dead, right?"
As if he'd overheard Aidan's whisper, Professor Waite added an explanation.
"There's no need to worry about encountering an Amalworm. The Amal flower blooming means the Amalworm's eggs have already been absorbed as nutrients. You will never be bitten by one, so rest easy, all of you."
Apparently everyone had been nursing the same fear, because sighs of relief rose here and there through the crowd. After passing along a few more precautions, Professor Waite gave the order.
"We'll cover the harvesting and uses of the Amal in the next lesson. Our time in the forest is limited. The front row, go on in."
Bayul's group had been positioned near the front, so their turn came quickly.
"Whoa, the petals are huge."
Beyond the narrow passage, they arrived at another clearing. Calling it a clearing was a stretch given how cramped it was, but there was room enough for eight or nine people to stand. The boy called Shusuke held his torch up to light the Amal for them.
"It's beautiful. Almost... mystical."
The rainbow-colored Amal flower was far lovelier than any drawing could convey. Blooming alone on an enormous stump overrun with green leaves, it commanded the space with startling presence.
It was like meeting the queen of all flowers.
"Quanin Flor. It's another name for the Amal."
After they had gazed at it for a long while, Shusuke spoke up.
"Quanin Flor? What does that mean?"
"...The Queen's Flower."
It was Bayul who answered Aidan's question.
"It's a northern dialect. It's been a while — hearing it feels nice."
Looking at the flower, Bayul smiled without meaning to.
"Bayul, your home is Hamilton, right? Do they use dialect there too?"
"Yeah, a little. The farther you get from the cities, the more people speak it, but most everyone uses the Imperial common tongue. Me included."
"I heard the northern dialect is basically a whole different language. Is that true?"
"There are times even I can't understand it. I've actually looked through a dialect dictionary before."
"Whoa, it's that bad?"
"That's what happens when a country's pointlessly huge. Enough about dialects — hurry up and smell it. It's sweet, just like chocolate."
Beneath the flickering torchlight, Eli's hair blazed an even deeper red. He closed his eyes and drew a long, slow breath, savoring it like a connoisseur.
"Mm. Lovely."
It was, after all, a plant that had grown on poison — practically a venomous weed in its own right. And yet, just as Eli had said, the scent really was rich as fine chocolate.
"He's right. How does a flower smell like this?"
Aidan's eyes curved in disbelief.
"We can touch it, right?"
His hand was already reaching toward the Amal.
Smack!
But just before his fingers could make contact, a tree branch came flying through the air and cracked him across the wrist.
"...Shusuke?"
"Stop right there!"
At the same moment, an unfamiliar voice cut in from behind. Bayul and the whole group spun around toward the entrance in shock.
Huh?
Bayul froze for an instant. Because just then, he was almost certain he'd seen something beyond the clearing, deeper in the forest.
What was that? An animal?
His heart lurched, but he forced up his courage and stared past the torchlight. If he'd imagined it, so much the better. If he hadn't, he would have to shout and warn everyone.
—!
But the moment his eyes met two points of light, Bayul turned to stone. Two pupils gleaming with an eerie glow in the darkness. They were unmistakably the eyes of a living beast.
Their glint was fierce enough to frighten. Say something — but his mouth wouldn't open. Just like that day when Jared's little stunt had whipped the horse into a frenzy, his body refused to obey him.
"Want me to cut off an arm for you?"
If not for the sharp voice ringing at his ear, he might have stood there frozen forever. Bayul finally collected himself and opened his mouth. Or rather — tried to.
Wh-where did it go?
He hadn't taken his eyes off it for even a second, yet it had vanished without a trace. Forget the light — nothing but ink-black darkness filled his vision now.
Did I imagine it?
But it had felt far too vivid for that. For a heartbeat, he'd been sure the thing would burst from the shadows at any moment, baring its furious fangs and claws.
"Trying to grab an Amal flower with your bare hands? You're not just an idiot — you're a world-class idiot."
That kid...?
It was Elaine. The Divinity student he'd met in Professor Rothius's office. He was stalking over with a scowl on his face, his companions trailing behind him.
"You talking to me right now?"
Aidan was hardly the type to stand quietly after being called an idiot. The moment he stepped forward with eyes blazing, the other boy answered with a smile. A deeply unpleasant one.
"You can skip the thanks."
"Thanks for what? You think this is the face of a grateful man?"
"Shusuke, what were you doing standing there? Do you not realize touching it bare-handed is a one-way ticket to a hospital?"
Ignoring Aidan entirely, Elaine rounded on Shusuke.
"Is this thing broken or what?"
The two clearly knew each other already. Shusuke raised the branch and waved it in front of Elaine's face.
"I was already blocking him with this, in case you didn't notice? And then you pop out of nowhere to butt in? I had it handled, obviously."
"And if you'd been a second too late, then what? That's the kind of thing you prevent beforehand, not fumble after. Why are you always this slow? Honestly, it's the whole Magic Department — that's your problem, you know that?"
"Maybe the Divinity Department should get its own act together first. Coming here to steal, and you have the nerve to lecture us?"
"We're simply exercising our legitimate rights."
"Rights? Ha! Let's get our words straight, shall we? Is this Divinity Department land? Is the Fallen Forest yours? This forest belongs to the Academy, plain and simple. Which means the Amal belongs to the Academy — not to your department. So why is it always you lot walking off with them? Is the word 'Divinity Department' carved into the flowers or something?"
"Might as well be."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"The Amal is the precious ingredient used to make Amalun. Can the Magic Department make Amalun? No, you can't. So naturally, it's ours. If you took it, you'd just burn it on pointless magical research. What would be the point of that?"
"Pointless? You little— that's it, you're dead—"
Shusuke hurled the branch to the ground. The moment he lunged forward, seething, Eli swiftly planted himself between the two of them.
"Enough, enough! I get both sides, but this is hardly the place for a brawl. What if a wild beast comes charging out of the dark, huh? Now stand down, all of you."
Oh no—
Bayul hastily swept his gaze around the clearing. The sudden commotion had made him forget. What if it had come back?
Thankfully, his worry proved unfounded. Beyond the clearing, the forest lay as dark and silent as ever — as if he had simply imagined the whole thing.
"And by the way — you there, Divinity Department. I happen to be a Magic Department student myself. Did you honestly think I'd just stand by and let this idiot touch it?"
"Rai, what do you mean by that?"
"The Amal flower carries a powerful toxin. If you'd touched it bare-handed, your skin would have melted straight off the bone."
"Whoa — your skin would melt?"
"Unless it's neutralized, the Amal is nothing but a poisonous weed useless for anything. Never be fooled by its looks. Beauty always comes with a price, after all. Just look at me."
"You're making jokes at a time like this? My arm nearly flew off!"
"And I told you I'd have stopped him, didn't I? What were you doing while the professor was giving out the precautions? Actually, no — before that, did you even thank Shusuke?"
"Ah — right. Shusuke, thanks. You saved my life."
"I just did my job. You don't have to make a big deal of it."
"You're Turtleking, right? Pretty sure I've seen you in the dormitory. If there's ever anything I can do for you, just say the word. I'll pay you back."
"Sorry to ruin the lovely atmosphere, but could you step aside now?"
Elaine's icy voice cut in once more. His hands, Bayul noticed, had somehow already been fitted with black gloves.
"As you can see, we have work to do. Shall we, gentlemen?"
At Elaine's signal, his companions surged toward the Amal. Every one of them was wearing the same black gloves as he was.